


Lived Only to Die

by BurningLeviathans



Category: Devil May Cry, Devil May Cry 4
Genre: It's mostly just Vergil Dante and Nero, Other, Trish and Lady are mostly just mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 14:23:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3293663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningLeviathans/pseuds/BurningLeviathans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nero's entire existence hinged on selfish reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lived Only to Die

**Author's Note:**

> This, as well as any upcoming DMC4-centric fics, are all spawned out of a lot of ideas a friend of mine and I came up with when we found out that Vergil was going to be involved with the DMC4 Special Edition coming out this summer. Obviously, this is a little bit different to the DMC verse timeline, since Vergil was left in Hell after DMC3's events, instead of Mundus snatching him and turning him into Nelo Angelo.
> 
> If Dante and Nero seem different from their normal characters, it's because I was mostly writing this with the mindset of how my friend and I roleplay them, with Dante being a somewhat caring uncle for Nero. But hopefully they're not too different.

 

The invitation Dante had extended to Nero had been one met with cold indifference, and yet, the kid had accepted it with an overpowering undertone of sadness, of agony. Not that Dante could blame him; he was taking the news a lot better than most people in his situation, especially at such a young age, ever could.

 

“ _...Hey, this might seem outta the blue, but...why not come live with me? We could be partners, work together killin' demons, but it'd be a change of scenery for you.”_

 

Nero had been silent, as if he hadn't heard Dante or was choosing to ignore him. But Dante knew better; it was that stubborn Sparda blood in Nero that kept him from responding. He didn't want to look weak by saying yes. Or maybe he was afraid of unraveling if he spoke. He was a Sparda, alright, what with how he hid his emotions, but he wasn't good enough. It was easy to read the look of heartbreak, of absolute crushing pain that hid on his face, welled deep within his eyes. After that, he'd merely given a short nod, rubbing a hand across his nose in that trademark way that he did, only to turn and start to stalk off.

 

Dante frowned at his retreating back, only giving a meager glance at where his brother – _his living, breathing brother, Vergil, I thought you were gone forever it's been decades or maybe it's been centuries I thought I'd lost you--_ had once stood, his cold gaze, so unforgiving and calculating, pinning Nero down and crushing him into the ground like the absolute bug Vergil thought the kid was.

 

And now, once more, Vergil was gone. But not dead, maybe not dead. He couldn't be, not if the first time was a farce. No, Vergil was just gone in the sense that he was planning, figuring out his next move. Dante shook his head, sighing before following after Nero, who was by then a good hundred yards ahead of him.

 

–--

 

Kyrie had understood. She'd been upset, understandably so, but she'd understood once Nero had given the short, brief and as painless as possible version of why he was leaving. Dante had been nice enough to stay a few more days, even attended Credo's funeral, but kept well out of sight. It was weird, seeing the kid heading the procession in such regal attire, having lost the ridiculous sword and the seemingly shared –if not inherited-- Sparda fashion sense. He looked the part of Credo's successor, as Dante had come to learn. And yet, as soon as he left Fortuna, he'd be giving that title up. Dante wondered if Credo would understand, or be disappointed. If the man's last dying wish was anything to go by, he'd probably understand. After all, Credo had had such a remarkable change of heart; he'd seen through Sanctus's treachery and changed sides, even if it cost him his life.

 

It didn't usually rain in the city, even near Fortuna Castle, but grey clouds darkened the sky, and a light drizzle fell on the cowled heads of the citizens. It was quiet, save for some chanting in Latin by what Dante could only guess to be a priest as the casket made its way to the cemetery. There was a nice plot set apart from the rest of the graves, one fit for Credo.

 

Nero was silent the entire time, standing motionless by the grave as the casket was lowered into the ground and slowly covered up after the roses had been tossed in. Dante couldn't see his face anymore; he could only see the kid's back, his tense shoulders, the way he seemed like a coiled spring just tied together. Nero was trying to hold himself together, to be strong. Dante didn't know how close they'd been, but he knew the pain of losing someone that meant something to you. It might never be the same kind of pain, him with losing Eva and supposedly losing Vergil, and Nero losing a man that was never even really related to him but still raised him, but it was still in the same vein.

 

After a few hours, the crowd had dispersed, mostly due to the rain turning heavy. By the time it emptied out, only Kyrie and Nero remained at the grave. Nero hadn't moved from his spot, and Kyrie stood beside him under the safety of an umbrella, crying. When her tears had dried up, she hugged Nero tightly, said a few words that Dante couldn't hear, and kissed his cheek, walking to go back into town.

 

Dante approached him when he figured Kyrie was far away enough, standing opposite Nero and looking at the soil, which was quickly becoming mud. “I'm never one for funerals, too bland in outfit. C'mon, let's get outta here before you catch a cold.”

 

Nero nodded solemnly, heading back to the house he'd called home for so long, taking a quick shower before changing into dry clothes, packing what little he had, and saying a final goodbye to Kyrie. Dante didn't mind being soaked; it was better to be wet with water than by questionable other fluids, in his mind. Water didn't stain.

 

–--

 

It was a little strange having to relinquish the freedom of the shop being his, and only his. So, as soon as he unlocked the door and they got inside, Dante laid down some basic ground rules. Don't touch my stuff, don't eat my stuff, don't go in my room. He didn't care much about messes; he wasn't the most tidy person in the world, himself, but he had Trish and Lady to take care of things like that for him. Not that he ever asked, they just got so disgusted to the point of doing it themselves. Mostly Lady, actually. Trish didn't ever seem to mind too much, which was no surprise.

 

Nero glanced around curiously, taking in the peculiar sights of the shop before looking at Dante. “So where am I staying?” Dante pointed to the stairs that led into the second floor, before miming making a left. “Up the stairs, down the hall all the way, and take a left. S'the guest room, but considering I don't ever have any _guests_ , I figure you can take it.”

 

Nero snorted, shouldering his bag before heading towards the stairs. “How generous.” Dante waved his comment off, watching him vanish before flopping into his chair, kicking his legs up onto the desk. Of course, it didn't escape his mind how reserved Nero was, and had been, ever since leaving the island. Before, he'd been rapid-fire with the snarky comments, the shit eating remarks. Now, it was like that fire had been snuffed out. Again, Dante had to remind himself of why that was. He was sure Nero would bounce back in no time. After all, the kid was his nephew. And that meant he had to have _some_ of Dante's personality mixed in.

 

–--

 

It was weeks before Nero started saying more than single word sentences to Dante. It evolved into _two_ word sentences. Even Trish and Lady were concerned, given that the only time they ever saw the thirdbreed was if he'd left the shop and came back when they were around. Hell, Dante hardly even saw him come down to eat. He figured Nero ate when everyone was asleep, so as to lessen the probability of being bothered, but the way the kid's face had become so gaunt and unlike him told another story. But Nero wasn't the type to just forgo eating, he wasn't the type to just starve himself, he wasn't the type to let what Vergil had said eat away at him--

 

Right?

 

Dante knew better than to speak up and say something, but he was genuinely starting to worry. It was _bizarre_ , these new emotions that had awakened in him following Nero moving in. Was it because he had a chance to somewhat right the wrong that both Sparda and Vergil had committed, in abandoning their children? Sure, he was maybe eighteen years late – Nero hadn't ever mentioned his age, but he was definitely a young adult – but it wasn't too late entirely.

 

Trish, being cocky in that way that she'd both learned from Dante and had brought with her from just being a demon, had tried to talk to Nero and ask what was wrong. _Tried._ _ **Once**_. Lady had been with Dante on the first floor when a loud _BANG_ resonated through the shop, sending Trish walking a little more than casually down the stairs, trying to wipe a startled look off her face. Lady had taken one look, and Dante knew that no one else would be trying to bother the kid into spitting out his feelings. Not until he was ready to do so himself.

 

Thankfully, Nero's skeletal features disappeared at least a week later, and he looked more like himself. He still made himself scarce around the shop, and no one dared bother him in his room. It was his only escape, really, the only place he could shut himself away from the world and pretend he just didn't exist, that the  _ world  _ didn't exist. Dante understood that; he understood a lot of what Nero was doing, now that he was watching it happen. In a way, Dante had been the same way after Eva's death, after Vergil's supposed first assumed death. But he hadn't had to deal with what Nero had bouncing around in his head; there was a difference in losing your family, toughening up and moving on, as opposed to never having your family, finding out you have a father, and finding out he never wanted you for anything other than his own purposes. 

 

\---

 

Three months had passed since Nero had come to live with Dante, and he was still a scarce sight. The only improvement was that he came down to eat regularly, even if it just meant coming down to grab some food and vanish back up to his room. But Dante still noticed new dishes appearing every now and then, dishes he knew weren't his or Trish's. He'd even noticed that, the rare times Lady came by bearing sweets, a good amount vanished by the next morning. So Nero was recovering, just slowly. They all still gave him his space, and despite the amount of time it was taking, they could tell he appreciated it, just being left alone to piece himself back together.

 

–--

 

Six months passed before Nero became a somewhat regular sight around the shop, but he still very rarely spoke. In that time, however, Dante had become privy to little ticks that Nero had started doing; little quirks that he probably didn't realise he was doing. Trish was helpful in making a list, adding quirks Dante didn't notice, or that Nero didn't do around him. The only one that didn't notice was Lady, but Trish and Dante said nothing to her, not wanting to make Nero aware of them knowing. Or of the fact they were learning how to read him, even if he himself was unaware.

 

It helped that Nero's right arm occasionally acted like a mood ring, but only for very few things. Otherwise, it was minor tenses, very brief flickers in expression, the slightest twitch in his fingers, that Dante had to pay attention to. Nero would rub his left index finger against the table if he was spacing out; his head would tilt from right to back to right if he was bored; his eyes would flicker to the bottom left and stare at whatever was present, whether it was a stain in the wood or a jagged crack in the table. A small muscle in his jaw would tense if he was upset, as well as his Adam's apple would bob, even if that was practically imperceptible. He'd lean back in the chair if he wanted to remove himself from a conversation, but didn't want to physically leave the room.

 

Of course, that didn't take into account the moods Dante could physically see around Nero in his aura; the kid was the same as him, the same as the demons they'd encountered, and he'd always been able to see their auras. It was how he'd found the snot so easily in the crowd of white hoods. Of course, the aura didn't change much; it was how it reacted around Nero, how it enveloped him or receded around his form that told Dante what he needed to know. Maybe Nero couldn't see these things, being half of what Dante was.

 

Six weeks after Nero had become a regular member of the shop's “family”, Dante woke early one morning, roused by something that was bothering him. It wasn't danger, and it wasn't a presence that shouldn't have been there. Everything on those ends were accounted for, the shop was dead silent.

 

_There was a draft._

 

It was winter by now, and despite the city never really snowing until the tail ends of the winter season, there was still cold wind that whipped around. And his room was cold, despite his heightened body temperature. Which mean there was a draft on the second floor.  _ Which meant Nero's window was open _ .

 

His first instinct was to be annoyed. But that quickly melted away as he sighed, tossing the blankets away and getting up, running a sleepy hand through his hair before throwing on a shirt and padding into the hallway, heading down to Nero's room. The door was closed, as it usually was, but a soft knock remained unanswered, leading Dante to open the door and move inside. Indeed, the window was left open, and it was still pretty dark outside with just the hints of the sun rising in the distance, making the room almost eerie in how frigid it was, combined with the blanket of darkness.

 

The curtains danced softly in the breeze that shot through, and Dante glanced to the bed, confirming what he'd already guessed; empty.  _ Did he leave?  _ No, he'd still been trying to piece things together. That much was obvious; he was brash, but he wasn't stupid enough to go back to Fortuna and try to confront Vergil.

 

A quick scan of the room offered more evidence that Nero hadn't up and left; his things were still here. So, with a curious glance at the clock telling him it was at least ten minutes to sunrise, Dante made his way over to the window, poking his head out and shifting to sit on the sill, leaning his head back.

 

A startled thirdbreed was what greeted him, before Nero regained his composure and wrapped his arms around his legs again, staring straight ahead. Dante frowned, before pulling himself onto the roof and sitting beside Nero, looking to the kid.

 

“...Y'know, if you wanted to try freezing to death, you might be better off doing it when you're asleep. Body heat n' all that,” Dante joked quietly, but it was met with an icy silence, colder than the early morning air.

 

He opted to remain quiet, just relieved that Nero hadn't tried to run off and retreated back inside, and just sat there, their shared body heat warding off the cold. Even in this piece of shit city, watching the sun rise was pretty, and it vaguely occurred to Dante that maybe that was why Nero was up here, instead of to think. After all, Fortuna had been a beautiful island with plenty of advantageous areas to watch a sunrise, sunset, or anything in between.

 

As the sun set the winter sky on fire contained in ice, Nero finally spoke up, his eyes staying on the horizon.

 

“...He's more of an asshole than you are.”

 

Dante let out a snort, smirking and nodding, leaning back on his hands. “Yeah, I think he inherited the serious asshole attitude, and I got the joking one.” He looked to Nero, who only shifted, his gaze lowering. “So, you've been escaping out here awhile?”

 

Nero nodded quietly, before sighing, his breath curling around his face. “I just...I'm having a really hard time figuring it out. Any of it, actually. I mean, he explained why he did it, but it still just...it's hard to swallow.”

 

Grunting in agreement, Dante shifted to sit up, turning to face Nero a little more, his voice soft as he spoke, “I know you're probably not the type, since it's part of the family and all, but if you're ready to talk about it, I'm listenin'.”

 

Nero glanced at him, before resting his chin on his knees, his claws digging slightly into his jacket's sleeve. “It's like I said, I just...I don't understand. I guess I  _ can't  _ understand, because I was under the delusion of...of there being the possibility that I actually had parents that wanted me. I knew the possibilities were really, really fuckin' slim, considering I was dropped on Fortuna and no one there looks or acts like me, and for someone to drop their kid on an island in the middle of nowhere it seems like exile, but...I guess it's still just something every orphan hopes for, at some point.

 

I should've connected the dots when my arm became like this, I suppose, but it just never occurred to me. I always thought those stories were ludicrous, just stories. A demon loving a human? That sounded so stupid. No one knew who you guys were, just legends. Just like Sparda. But then you showed up. You actually  _ showed up _ , but I still had no idea.”

 

Nero trailed off, before shaking his head, sighing roughly. It sounded to Dante like he was trying to ward off his voice being choked up, or ward off tears. “And then all the shit on the island happened, and then...and then Vergil appeared. He actually fucking appeared. The look on your face, it was like...that was all I needed to be told. Hell, even before looking at you, I knew. You mentioned him in past tense, but never really said he was dead. You never even said you guys were twins, that he looked like you,  _ anything _ , but I still knew. It was like you'd seen a ghost, and for a moment, I actually thought you guys might just fuck off and leave Fortuna, leave us all alone. But the fucking look he gave  _ me _ , the way he just...saw right through me. It was like a wolf looking at a piece of rotting meat. Disgusted, yet still approving.”

 

Dante had thought the same, and it, shockingly enough, had enraged him. He knew Vergil enough to have known that look meant that Nero wasn't anything to Vergil, nothing but a pawn, at the very least. He wasn't intrigued, like Dante had been. That look had made it clear that Vergil had known who Nero was, but Dante hadn't had any idea how deep it had extended.

 

\---

 

“ _Not quite what I would have hoped at this age, but for all my patience, a little more coaxing won't hurt,” Vergil mused, his icy gaze eying Nero dangerously. Dante watched him, still shellshocked, before snapping out of it enough to find his voice._

 

“ _How the hell are you here? How are you alive, I thought--”_

 

“ _You thought wrong, brother. As you always do. You're still just as naïve as you were all those years ago; a pity. It's an insult that you really thought I'd allow myself to just fester in Hell while you were left to gallivant about the human world on your own free whim,” Vergil interrupted, his gaze locking Dante in place._

 

“ _Says the guy whose only concern was gaining more power for himself, regardless of who died or not. What was your point in that, huh, Verge? I know you said that you couldn't protect anyone if you weren't powerful, but who the hell would you have left to protect? Dear old Dad's been a no-show for a good while, poor Mom's been gone for just as long, and you tried to kill me. So who would you even have left that you cared about to protect?” Dante spat out, and for the first time, Nero saw a pained look on his face, amidst the obvious anger._

 

_This seemed to both baffle Vergil and not phase him in the slightest, given that he didn't answer. His silence allowed Dante to counter, his pent up anger only seeming to grow._

 

“ _I thought you were gone, Vergil. I watched you fall into that abyss, I watched you die.”_

 

“ _What you watched was my separation from you, not my death.”_

 

“ _There's no difference, Vergil! You'd fallen into the deepest pits of Hell, and willingly, no less! I thought you were gone forever! So what the hell have you actually been doing, huh?”_

 

_At that, Vergil's gaze returned to Nero, who suddenly seemed very uncomfortable becoming the center of attention in this tense family reunion. “I have been seeking to grow my powers, brother.”_

 

“ _Wait, why the hell are you looking at me, I'm not—I don't know you, I've never met you until now.”_

 

“ _Of course we haven't. I haven't been able to escape my prison until now. You're correct, Dante, I was trapped in Hell, but with a Hellgate being just beneath this city, I was able to...coerce actions into occurring and allowing my release.”_

 

“ _What the hell are you talkin' about?” It was uncanny, how both Dante and Nero spoke nearly in unison, and they glanced at each other in silent acknowledgment of that fact._

 

“ _I wanted more power, and the destruction of the Temen-Ni-Gru proved to hinder my quest for it. Of course, it was only minor; being in Hell, after establishing my dominance, gave me a lot of time to learn things, to force knowledge out of the demons that had been there for a long time. I came to learn that our kind can not only be killed, but that the power we wield can be taken posthumously. So I sought to do just that. Of course, I couldn't kill you, dear brother. So I took a different path.”_

 

_Nero's blood ran cold, and suddenly, his right arm began to ache._

 

“ _While I was very...unhappy, with my option, I knew that the outcome would be worth it. The ends justify the means, after all. So I created a spawn of my own, just as Father created us, only I had lesser demons to work with. Once the child was conceived, I was able to escape Hell long enough to come to this island, create the story of Sparda being a feudal lord here long ago, and embed in the highest minds that he was a saviour, that he deserved to be worshiped as a god, because he was the humans' protectors. The religion was created, a statue erected, and my plan had begun to take on a life of its own, even while the centerpiece grew in its own life.”_

 

_Vergil's coolness while he talked made Nero's stomach turn, and he took a step back, suddenly feeling like he'd retch. Dante must have noticed, because a hand actually touched the small of his back, just very gently, as if silently reassuring him that things would be okay._

 

“ _When the child was born, I left him here to be cared for, and watched as he grew. My own powers were still weak, and I still was unable to fully escape Hell without the Hellgate, so I was unable to do much else. It tested my patience, having to wait so long given that his human side seems as dominant as our own, but when his arm finally changed, I knew the waiting would be worth it. It was hard, relinquishing Yamato, broken as it was, to the humans so long ago, but if they were to complete their plans, it was required. I must admit, I'm actually much more surprised at how your power has grown in such a short time, after such a long lull.” It was disgusting, how approving Vergil was of Nero's power. Another wave of nausea rolled over Nero, and his voice wavered._

 

“ _All this time...you've been my father...but you only planned to...to kill me? You were just letting them raise me like a pig for slaughter?”_

 

_Vergil seemed to consider this, before spreading his hands, nodding. “In simpler terms, yes. I'm glad you've come to understand.”_

 

“ _Jesus, Vergil, I knew you were a bastard, but that's low,” Dante breathed out, surprised at just how much his brother could truly shock him._

 

“ _I do not need your approval, Dante, I only need you to step aside so that I can finish what I've been waiting so long for,” Vergil snarled, his fists clenching. He felt weak without Yamato, but even with the sword being bonded inside Nero, that would be fixed as soon as the boy's heart stopped beating. And he could do that without a sword. Or, if need be, he'd take the boy's ridiculous sword and stop his heart by his own blade._

 

“ _You're crazy if you think I'm letting you get near this kid, Vergil,” Dante stepped in front of Nero, Rebellion already out and at the ready. It was easy to see how pained Dante was to do this, to see that while Dante was glad Vergil was alive, that some part of him must have wished that he'd have truly been dead._

 

_Vergil's expression darkened, but before they could take a single step, a number of demons came rushing out of the city wreckage, Scarecrows cackling in way that only mindless demons like they could. Except this was a large attack, almost like it had been organised somehow, and even Vergil seemed taken off guard by it. His brow creased in frustration, but being weak and basically defenseless, he had no option but to flee. And flee he did, disappearing from view and leaving Dante and Nero to fend off the demons. Mostly Dante, since Nero was motionless, just staring at the ground in shock._

 

_After that was dealt with, Trish had reappeared, and it was quietly decided that Nero would come with them back to the shop, and get away from all the lies that were wound around Fortuna in Nero's life._

 

\---

 

“It just doesn't make any sense to me. He's your brother, so I guess...I guess I expected him to still be kind of like you,” Nero shook his head, clawed hand running through his hair. Dante reached out, squeezing his shoulder lightly before panting it. Nero looked over at him, his expression searching for answers, and Dante let his hand drop, humming in tune with a sigh.

 

“Vergil's my twin, obviously, but despite being identical, we're the complete opposite. We used to be really close as kids, and then Dad disappeared on our eighth birthdays, leaving us on our own. Demons attacked us, killed Mom, separated me from Verge. I don't know what happened to Vergil in the time we were separated, but when I finally crossed paths with him again sometime later, he was different. He was always a level headed guy, really calculating, the regal type. I was always the ballsy hothead, the one that liked adventure, adrenaline, getting my ass kicked and refusing to stay down. When we crossed paths, it was like he was a shadow of himself, somehow. He abhorred his human half, just absolutely hated that he was half power, half weakness. He wanted more power, that was all he wanted anymore. It was weird, though...he mentioned that without power, without might, one wouldn't be able to protect the people that mattered the most to them. I think he blamed our mom's death on himself, being the older twin by mere minutes. We were fuckin' _eight,_ though _._ I don't know why he thought he'd be strong enough to take on actual demons when we were still kids. But he couldn't be convinced otherwise, except...he still fought beside me, at the end. And then...I tried to save him, but he fell into nothing, and he was just _gone_.”

 

Nero had shifted, laying his head on the side to watch Dante as he talked, but remained silent, just observing him. Dante was looking up to the brightening sky, his eyes hazy in memory, and perhaps emotion.

 

“I guess I'm in as much disbelief about his whole stunt as you are. I knew he was power hungry, but I never thought...I didn't think he could stoop to that level. I knew him like I knew myself, or so I thought, and then we got split, and he just...wasn't him anymore. He surrendered his humanity, so I guess it only makes sense that all those years in Hell would finally just destroy any remnants he might've had left.” Dante grunted, shifting before hunching his shoulders forward, shaking his head. After awhile of silence, he looked over, meeting Nero's gaze. “He's not gonna kill you, kid. I'm not gonna let him, I promise. Normally, if a plan failed once he'd just give up and move on, but if he spent this much time and effort playing a gamble on you, then I don't really know what he'd do. But either way, he's gonna have to go through me before he gets to you.”

 

Nero smiled, unfolding himself before nodding, getting on his knees and moving over to wrap his arms around Dante, hugging him tightly. It surprised him, because it seemed so out of character for Nero, but after a moment Dante patted his back, before just returning the hug.

 

“I'm sorry he wasn't what you wanted in a dad, kid. I didn't think he'd ever pull that shit, after what our dad did to us. And as much of a pain in my ass you are, you're still my nephew, so I'll always be here for you if you still wanna give that whole 'real family' thing a shot. Ain't makin' any promises, though.”

 

Nero snorted, pushing him away and sliding down, climbing back into his room and shutting the window, locking Dante out. He frowned, brows knitting together before he tried sliding down, leaning down and pounding on the glass. “Hey, open up! I don't want to pay to fix the door or window, c'mon!”

 

The thirdbreed just stood in the middle of his room, giving Dante a shit eating grin before waving him away, Dante taking the hint and shifting so the window could be opened again, and he swung himself in, shoving Nero by the side of his head. “Remember whose roof you're livin' under next time you wanna pull that stunt, you punk.”

 

“I'm sure Lady would let me live with her, and you'd probably get an earful from Trish. Actually, you'd probably get an earful from both of them at some point.”

 

God, that sounded like a fate worse than death. Even after all these years, they still found new things to chew his ass for, and they'd taken to Nero like replacement mothers, so there'd be no question on how awful Dante's punishment would be.

 

“Still an absolute punk.”

 

“Rather be a punk than an old man.”

  
  
“Yeah, yeah. Don't leave the damn window open next time you wanna be a rooster.”

 

Dante sauntered towards the door, heading into the hall and towards his room, Nero leaning in the doorway and watching him. He grinned, before standing straight and calling after him, seconds before closing his door, “No promises, old man.”

 

Dante paused, glancing back before grumbling, disappearing into his room and kicking the door shut, collapsing onto his bed. A slight smile tugged at his lips as his eyes closed, glad that Nero was back to normal. Whatever semblance of normal that poor kid could find, anyway.


End file.
